


On the Wings of Love (The Only Way to Fly)

by Zetal (Rodinia)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Mild Islamophobia from Ignorance, Mild blood reference, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Yuri Plisetsky, Soulmate AU, Wingfic, Yuri Plisetsky's Potty Mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28042341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal
Summary: Otabek and Yuri have been best friends for over a year.  Everyone around them wants to know why in the world they aren't together.  It's not like everybody knows who their soulmate is and only ever gets with them - a lot of people prefer to just be with someone they love instead of waiting for a soulmate.  Some people even think that you're not born with soulmates, you make your own soulmates.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: Holidays!!! on Ice (2020)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lumeleo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeleo/gifts).



> Prompted for Holiday on Ice. I ended up combining aspects from all three prompts, because I couldn't pick one. :D
> 
> Give me my angry kitten son and his friend. Anything with Yuri being annoyed and then getting placated by Otabek (preferably in a shippy way, but friendship is totally lovely as well) would be cute. Alternatively, someone legitimately upsets Yuri and Otabek decides he needs to do some protecting/avenging. Basically, I just want Yuri being upset and Otabek making things better.  
> Since Otabek is most likely Muslim, given the statistics, I'd like a closer look at that. Maybe Yurio is utterly clueless and says something thoughtless (like complaining that Otabek won't eat his grandpa's pork dishes), or alternatively surprises everyone by being very aware of the matter (like giving mama Katsuki a detailed list of what Otabek can or can't eat for his inevitable trip to Hatetsu). Fluff/humor please?  
> Gender is a touchy issue to Yuri for whatever reason (maybe he's trans, or just insecure in general) and he confronts JJ about his stupid comments, and to his surprise JJ is actually cool about it. Otabek confronts his former rinkmate about how to treat Yuri properly because nobody messes with his friend and gets away with it.  
> Things I like: domesticity, fluff, gender stuff (trans issues, genderfluid characters etc.), A/B/O (without consent issues or extreme power dynamics between genders), wingfic/supernatural AUs, soulmates (bonds, marks, etc.), kidfic/babies, plotty stuff, obliviously in love, asexual characters/relationships  
> DNW: Consent issues, extreme power dynamics, unhappy endings, graphic descriptions of torture, infidelity

Being friends with Yuri for so long, Otabek had gotten used to their temper tantrums. Usually, the best thing to do was to let them get it all out, and then get them talking about what caused it, but this time Otabek felt the need to intervene. “Yura, I know I’ve taught you how to throw a punch, please do not make me explain to Yakov how you shattered your hand the day before the Worlds short program.”

“Fuck that, I can still skate with my hand taped all to hell, not like I use it for anything in the program,” Yuri snarled. “I need to get this out, Beka. If I don’t, I might throw a punch at a person, and I really don’t want anyone to have to explain to Yakov why I got myself disqualified.”

“I’m all for you throwing punches at the punching bag, if you’re using proper technique.” Otabek caught Yuri’s hand as they prepared for another punch, tugging his thumb out from inside the clenched fist. “Thumb outside so you don’t break or dislocate it.” He held onto the hand until he saw Yuri’s other thumb come out to match this one, and then let it go. “Punch away.”

Yuri got back to punching, and Otabek winced as he saw the blood from the scraped-up knuckles standing out so brightly against Yuri’s pale skin. As much as he appreciated the chance to get to hold Yuri’s hand again as he patched them up, he’d be just as happy not to see Yuri in pain. He reminded himself again that Yuri was strong, they could take this, and even after they had cooled off they would agree that letting them get the aggression out in a way that didn’t hurt anyone else was worth whatever pain they ended up dealing with.

Once Yuri was done, they came straight to Otabek, who had the first aid kit out and waiting. “Feel like talking yet, or need more time?” Otabek asked as he took the hand Yuri held out to him to start disinfecting the scrapes.

Yuri tilted their head in consideration, but it didn’t take them long. “Let’s not ruin the moment. I’ll talk after you’re done patching me up.”

“Fair enough.” Otabek took his time, making sure to get everything done as thoroughly as he could. As much as he wanted to hear what was wrong, he wasn’t about to let go of his chance to be here with Yuri like this. Their friends never understood why the two of them weren’t together, when it was so obvious – to them, anyway – that they belonged together.

The only reason they weren’t was that they weren’t soulmates. Sure, soulmates didn’t always realize they were soulmates right away; sometimes it could take years. There were rumors of soulmates only recognizing each other when one of them was dying. The thing was that if Yuri and Otabek were soulmates, it seemed likely they would have realized it after Barcelona. Otabek may not have literally saved Yuri’s life that day, getting them away from their rabid fan horde, but it wasn’t much of an exaggeration. Yuri learning to open up and let someone in, and then not immediately push him away when they argued over bringing Yuri to the club, that had a profound impact on Yuri and their ability to let themself have friends. When they met again at Worlds and still couldn’t see each other’s wings, it was devastating to both of them.

Yuri curled up into a ball when Otabek could no longer drag out cleaning up their knuckles. “So JJ and I were in the same practice group today.” Otabek winced. That was a big clue about what was coming. “My dysphoria’s been pretty bad lately – I don’t remember, did I tell you I had to get emergency alterations done on my costume thanks to a growth spurt?”

“You mentioned the alterations. I don’t think you said why, but it wasn’t hard to guess,” Otabek said. “You were telling me all about how shocked Pavel was that Yakov didn’t have one of his famous temper explosions when you told him your costume felt a little off.”

“Yeah. Anyway.” Yuri curled up a little tighter, and a part of Otabek couldn’t help but admire and be slightly jealous of how flexible they were still. “So JJ and I are practicing, and I didn’t quite get a quad flip fully rotated and nearly ran into him while I was still trying to catch my balance. He caught me and did his thing with ‘can’t let such a beautiful lady fall and hurt herself’ and I know he doesn’t actually think of me as a girl or that there’s anything wrong with being a girl, he just thinks it’s funny, but…”

“Ugh. And with your dysmorphia already flaring up, and then you’re already frustrated because of the miss on the flip…” Otabek shook his head. JJ was a good friend, but he could be frustrating – especially when it came to Yuri. “I’ll try to talk to him.”

“Beka?!”

Otabek reached out, putting his hands on Yuri’s shoulders to calm them down. He could understand why Yuri was reacting that way, “I know you hate him, but he is a good guy. It will be enough for me to tell him that it bothers you, I don’t have to tell him why it bothers you so much. He’ll stop, or you’ll know he’s doing it specifically to be a dick and you can feel better about it when you do finally lose your temper and kick him.”

Yuri thought that one over, eventually nodding. “Yeah, that’s fair, then. I’m still gonna try to keep hold of my temper, and if I could do it today then I should be able to, but if you can get him to knock it off that would be better. Thanks.”

“Of course.” Otabek brushed a strand of hair that had come loose from Yuri’s ponytail out of their face. “Feeling better?”

“Much. Thanks.” Yuri held up their hands. “And thanks for this, too. I’ll make sure Yakov knows you’re only responsible for the good parts.”

The next morning, Otabek found JJ in the hotel lobby and walked over. “Hey.”

“Beks! Hey, dude! How you doing?” JJ jumped to his feet and held out his fist for a bump. “Rumor has it you’re taking your kitten to Kazakhstan this summer?”

“Yuri’s coming to visit, yeah,” Otabek confirmed, returning the fistbump. “And speaking of Yuri, I need to talk to you.”

“Of course!” JJ sat back down, waving Otabek into the chair beside him. “Is this about yesterday? I know Yuri was more upset than usual, but I don’t know why.”

“It has nothing to do with you, really, he’s just struggling with some stuff with growth spurts.” JJ flinched sympathetically, and Otabek quietly breathed a sigh of relief. “Listen, would you please knock it off with the calling him a girl or a lady? It really bothers him.”

“Why?” JJ stared at Otabek in complete incomprehension. “He’s not one of those idiots who think girls are somehow inferior, and as much as he doesn’t like me, I find it hard to believe that he thinks I am, so why the big deal?”

Otabek hadn’t prepared for this. Shit. He could refuse to answer, but then JJ would likely keep poking at it. He could come up with some kind of bullshit, but he’d need time for that. How to stall? “Why do you do it, anyway? Like you said, neither of you finds it actually insulting, so how exactly is it trash talk?”

“The other Canadian skaters kept talking about the Russian ballerina coming up to seniors, and you know, he had that whole thing with being Viktor 2.0 and Viktor had that phase of playing with androgyny and gender presentation when he was a teenager joining seniors. So hey, why not play along, right? And I did notice it bugged him at Skate Canada, but it also bugged him when someone said after the short program that it looked like Russian skating was in good hands even with Viktor retiring, and after his free skate someone complimented his step sequence by saying it looked like Katsuki had helped him with it. I figured it couldn’t be too bad.”

Perfect. Otabek relaxed a little, because this gave him a way to explain why JJ was wrong. “Those are both bad examples. He absolutely hates being compared to Viktor, because he feels it takes away from his accomplishments. Normally he wouldn’t have been too bothered by the comparison to Katsuki, as long as it was steps and not jumps.” JJ let out a laugh. Katsuki had gotten a lot better, true, but he was still far from the best jumper in figure skating. “But you remember what was going on that season, right? He lost a competition to Katsuki and felt like he lost Viktor at the same time, so poking the open wound got a much stronger reaction than it would now.”

“Oh, shit.” JJ put a hand to his mouth. “I didn’t even think about that. You’re right. I’ll find some other way to talk shit to him. Nothing involving Viktor or anything to do with gender. Anything else I should steer clear of? As long as I don’t call him a ballerina, is ballet okay?”

“You should probably avoid insulting tigers.” JJ’s laugh was so loud people across the lobby turned around to stare at them. “But yeah, the ballet thing is fine.”


	2. Chapter 2

Yuri was thrilled when the rest of the competition, JJ mostly left them alone, and when he did feel the need to be shitty, he teased Yuri about their ballet. They had their doubts about its lasting power, but hey, even if JJ was back on his bullshit next fall, Beka could just remind him of whatever it was they talked about this time. If Beka wasn’t there, well, Yuri couldn’t care less about interacting with JJ anyway.

They had missed the ladies’ short program to meet with a sponsor, but for the free skate, he was going to watch with Otabek. The first few skaters were okay, not great, but certainly watchable. The last skater in the group made Yuri sit up – a skater from the UAE. “Huh, really? I didn’t know they let Muslim girls skate. Isn’t that against their religion?”

Otabek turned to stare at them, and to their surprise, he looked kind of pissed. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you know… for one thing, the headscarf thingie violates the dress code, we’re not supposed to wear hats during competitions,” Yuri said, trying to figure out where this whole thing was coming from.

“It’s called hijab, and she used to get deductions for it until she was able to convince them to make an exception since it’s a religious thing and not a rebellion or fashion thing.” Otabek crossed his arms, looking back out to the ice. “I don’t know her personally, but from what I’ve read and heard, she’s the one who made the choice to wear the hijab and to skate.”

“Huh. Fair enough, I guess.” Yuri had to admit, it certainly made her stand out as memorable. “And the form-fitting clothes aren’t a problem? I know they don’t all wear the burqa, but have you seen what ladies skaters skate in?” Otabek looked pointedly at the ice. Unlike most costumes, there was no nude fabric creating an illusion of showing skin, and even the leggings under her skirt were black, rather than a skinlike color. “Okay, whatever, it’s still form fitting but whatever. I’m just surprised they let her do it, aren’t Muslim girls supposed to stay home?”

“My sisters are Muslim girls, and I feel incredibly sorry for anyone who tries to make them,” Otabek scoffed. “Did you seriously not know I’m Muslim?”

“You eat katsudon. I know I told you it’s a pork cutlet bowl. How was I supposed to know?” Yuri snapped to cover their shock. This explained Otabek being pissed at Yuri shooting off their mouth, but now they had five million more questions. How had they not known this about their best friend for over a year? Fuck, what other stupid shit had they said over that time because they didn’t know? They didn’t talk much about Muslims, but everything they knew was stereotypes or Russian propaganda. “And your sisters don’t wear the he…” wait, what had Otabek called it, “hijab.”

“Nah, it’s not Kazakh tradition. In Kazakhstan, it’s mostly foreigners or older women who wear them, or they’re worn to protect against wind and cold and taken off indoors like any other hat. A lot of schools even ban wearing hijab because it’s considered religious clothing, which isn’t allowed.” Otabek relaxed a lot. “Other than katsudon and your grandpa’s pirozhkis, I’ve never eaten pork. I don’t keep strict halal when I’m away from home, especially in countries where there aren’t a lot of Muslims or identifying myself as Muslim could cause problems, but pork’s usually easy enough to avoid.”

“You could have said something, I would’ve understood.” Yuri felt awful about making their friend eat pork against his religion. Sure, he loved katsudon and his grandpa’s pirozhkis, but there were plenty of other foods he and Beka could share. He’d even asked Beka about allergies before their trip to Japan last summer, or bringing him to Moscow to meet Grandpa.

Otabek just shrugged, smiling softly at Yuri. “I could have. For future reference, except for katsudon and pirozhkis, I don’t eat pork. Those get to be exceptions because I say so, as long as you promise not to tell my grandmother I’m going to keep doing it.”

“Sorry about the stupid comments,” Yuri said. “For what it’s worth, she’s really good for coming from a country without a skating tradition.”

“Yeah, she is.” Otabek reached over and laced his fingers with Yuri’s. “I’m sorry it never occurred to me to tell you I’m Muslim. I don’t really think about it much, I believe and all but outside of Kazakhstan it’s not really part of my life. You’ll see a lot more of it when you come to Kazakhstan – and now that I’m thinking about it, I am very glad you did say something stupid, so you found out about this before you got there. If you decide not to come…”

“Fuck that. I’m gonna be doing a shitton of research over the next few days so I don’t say something stupid to your family or friends, but it’s ignorance, not anything against Muslims. I’m not cancelling this trip.”

True to their word, Yuri spent the next few days using his spare time reading up on Islam, Kazakhstan, and Kazakh Islam. Otabek’s offer to help was welcome and Yuri accepted reading recommendations and discussions, but they refused to let him do all the work – this was their problem to fix, not Otabek’s, and it certainly wasn’t Otabek’s job to educate Yuri. That’s what long-ass plane rides were for. Yakov didn’t have much to say about it, either. If Yuri wanted to spend their time on the plane reading instead of blasting loud music or complaining about airplane food or being stuck in a seat instead of somewhere they could stretch out properly, Yakov was all for it, no matter what they were reading.

By the time they got off the plane in Almaty, Yuri felt reasonably confident that they were not going to make a complete ass of themself in front of Otabek’s family. At least, not by saying something completely horrible and ignorant about Islam; they were still them, after all.

They looked over the crowd, hoping to find Beka waiting there for them. Yakov had convinced them to go back to Saint Petersburg to drop off costumes, trade dirty clothes for clean ones, and get Potya. The costumes and clothes, Yuri gave zero fucks about, but Yakov had a good point that bringing Potya to Worlds was not going to work and Beka had already told him to bring Potya or not come. It was a joke, but if Potya was welcome, why wouldn’t Yuri bring him?

They were not prepared for what they saw when they finally did find Beka. He looked normal, except for one very huge thing. For over a year, Yuri had assumed they would never see Beka like this – but now here they were. They couldn’t move. All they could do was stare at the beautiful black wings folded against Beka’s back, with the gold edging gleaming under the airport lights.

If they could see Beka’s wings, that should mean Beka could see theirs. Yuri had gone through the practices like everyone else, learning to control their wings, but for the most part they ignored them. They were useless on the ice – the wings only became real to interact with your soulmate. Some pairs skaters or ice dancers who learned they were soulmates used it on the ice during exhibitions or shows, but it was considered an unfair competitive advantage to use them during competitions, and singles skaters of course would never be able to.

Yuri concentrated, and their wings spread out behind them. For the most part, it was ignored; no one could see it. On the other hand, it got Beka’s attention, and Yuri got to watch the mirror image of their reaction on Beka’s face. The shock, the disbelief, the awe, and the joy all took their turns, muted only slightly by Beka’s usual stoicism. Then Yuri took off running, throwing themself into Beka’s arms and wrapping their wings around him as well. “Can you believe this? Isn’t this awesome? I can’t wait to tell Grandpa and everyone at the rink!”

Otabek held on tight with one arm, but his other hand came up to gingerly touch Yuri’s jade green wings, as though he didn’t quite believe they were real. “This is amazing. Of course, it does mean you don’t get a whole lot of warning before having to meet your soulmate’s parents…”

“It’s not like we’ve never talked or anything,” Yuri scoffed. “They know me, they love me, and your mom even told me right before Europeans that she thought we were making a mistake giving up on the idea that we were soulmates. I don’t mind listening to her do the ‘mom knows best’ speech at all, not if it means getting you like this.”

“Heh. Come on, then.” Otabek took Yuri’s hand to take them to the baggage claim. “Is it too early to say I love you?”

“Not at all.” Yuri turned and kissed Beka’s cheek. “I love you.”


End file.
